


rivers fall to the ocean side (I fall for you here every time)

by geneeste



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Eye Contact, F/M, OHFAT, Olicity Hiatus Fic-A-Thon, Olicity Hiatus fic, Original Team Arrow, Prompt Fic, This fic assumes facts not in evidence, and other sentimental crimes against fanfiction, boats shamelessly abused as romantic plot devices, post season 5 finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 21:59:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11217099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geneeste/pseuds/geneeste
Summary: Oliver had clung to all of them in turn, and when he’d grabbed her and lifted her right off her feet, burying his face in her neck -- well, she’s pretty sure she would have agreed to anything, up to and including an impromptu beach wedding and building a permanent shanty right where they stood.





	rivers fall to the ocean side (I fall for you here every time)

**Author's Note:**

> Olicity Hiatus Fic-a-Thon prompt fic: eye contact. Title from Elephant Revival’s “Birds and Stars.”
> 
> Super late with this prompt fic, but eh! Also going to call this a flash fic, as the majority was written early yesterday in an attempt to avoid writing other things. As such, it is unbeta’d, so all mistakes are mine. Note: I spent about 30 seconds googling boat-related things, so…I’m handwaving accuracy on that.
> 
> Please enjoy this schmoopy, sentimental little thing. XD

Felicity wakes with a start, head bouncing off the hull of the little tender that’s speeding over the ocean to the waiting ARGUS ship.

For a moment she’s not sure what woke her up, and then a pain shoots down from her lower back into her legs, and she grimaces. Right, of course.

She can’t stretch out her legs, not as packed in as they are. Felicity, Oliver, William, Samantha, Thea, John, Lyla, Dinah, Rene, Curtis, Lance, Nyssa - Oliver insisted that they all leave the island together. They’re most definitely exceeding the weight limit of the small transport, but the boat seems to be holding up well, and it’s not like she could have said no to Oliver anyway. 

Not after being reunited with him following two weeks of being stuck underground, and certainly not after he’d been so obviously relieved and overjoyed to find them. Thinking back to the moment he and Lyla had finally dug them out, when they had stopped the equipment for fear that the group’s emergency bunker would collapse into itself, how instead Oliver had gotten into the hole and scooped out dirt and rock with his bare hands until he could pull each of them out -- Felicity doesn’t have words for it, except that it had all been very dramatic and very, very emotional.

Oliver had clung to all of them in turn, and when he’d grabbed her and lifted her right off her feet, burying his face in her neck -- well, she’s pretty sure she would have agreed to anything, up to and including an impromptu beach wedding and building a permanent shanty right where they stood.

They’re definitely not ready for that, so it’s a good thing that all Oliver asked for was the group ride back.

The pain’s coming on more frequently now, and since there’s no room to spread out, all she can try is standing up. It takes a minute, because she’s wedged between Oliver and John, both sleeping heavily in their exhaustion, and her hips and legs -- already weakened since she and Curtis hadn’t had time to reconfigure her biochip -- suffered in the close, cold, and damp conditions of their shelter these past few weeks. It’s a couple of tries before she can work her feet under her and get a hand up on the railing for enough leverage to get herself upright.

She can’t help but groan when she stands. She tries to stretch in the cramped space she has, rolling her shoulders and hips and pointing her toes, and it does help make the pain more tolerable, but she still hurts. More than that, she’s not super stable -- it’s overcast and the waves are choppy, and the rocking is much more pronounced now that she’s upright than when she was sitting on the floor of the boat. 

Between the swaying of the boat, her fatigue, and her pain, it’s just a little too much for her already overtaxed body to handle. Dizziness and nausea crest like the waves moving the tender back and forth, and she has to squeeze her eyes closed and let her chin fall to her chest to stave it off.

Felicity’s still breathing and swallowing heavily when she feels a big, strong hand slide up her calf and wrap around her thigh to steady her.

“You’re okay,” Oliver tells her, voice roughened by sleep and the shouting he’d done earlier that day. “I’ve got you.”

He’s pulling her into his side, letting her lean into his strength, and what would normally be an arousing touch feels so real and comforting that her eyes water and her throat aches. She’s not really dizzy or nauseated anymore, and despite the cold bite of the air, she feels so incredibly warm there with Oliver holding her up.

When she opens her eyes, they immediately find his, and he’s looking up at her like she’s the only thing he’s ever wanted to see. Even red-rimmed, even strained with stress and weariness, his eyes are the most beautiful, piercing blue, and she actually sighs in relief at getting to see them like this again.

 _I missed you_ his eyes say, and there’s a desperation in them that makes her breathless. She can’t help but pass her free hand over his brow, over his close-cropped hair, and down to rub his neck, wanting to give him some kind of comfort to force his sadness away. He tightens his arm around her thigh, like he’s hugging her, and presses his forehead into her jeans, which at this point have _got_ to be disgusting.

But if he doesn’t care, neither does she, and she’ll give him whatever peace she can, in whatever form he needs it.

She strokes his hair for a bit while he takes deep breaths against her, shoulders moving up and down slowly as he calms. She’s not sure how long they stay that way, but as they get closer to the ship and the ARGUS agents start to prepare for docking, their friends begin to stir, and it breaks the heavy moment between them. 

Olivers nuzzles her thigh once, clears his throat, and then loosens his hold on her until his hand slides back down to just under her knee. It’s not meant to be intimate, just supportive, but for her their closeness lingers. She’s mindful of the others; William is still dozing against his mother on the other side of Oliver, Diggle is murmuring with Lyla next to them. The others are doing their own thing, talking amongst themselves, but it’s still a small boat.

There’s so many things she wants to say to Oliver, and as much as she loves their family, she doesn’t want to say it with an audience.

So she smiles down at him, running her fingers through his beard. It’s longer than she’s ever seen him keep it, shaggy, and she wonders why he took the time to buzz his hair but not to trim his beard.

When he looks up at her in question, tilting his chin into her caress, she smiles wider. “You need to shave,” she explains.

His eyes go playful, and as tired as he obviously is, he summons the energy to smirk just for her benefit. “I thought you liked my beard.”

“Mmm, yes, but context is important,” she teases suggestively, then reddens when John chokes next to her and Oliver’s smirk intensifies. Neither comment further, so she decides to just push on. “Although you could definitely work the Mountain Man look.”

He huffs a laugh, but any reply he would have made is forestalled by the tender pulling up behind the ARGUS ship, where an open bay waits to take them up.

The boat maneuvers in smoothly, and when they’re secured into a little alcove of the ship’s bay, it's clear that there’s still a several-foot lip between the top of the tender and the ship’s bay floor.

The others, even tired and injured, climb the gap without difficulty -- even William, who is barely taller than the top of the bay floor -- but Felicity knows she doesn't have the strength or stability right now to scale it herself. And she _also_ knows that she's being stupid, but she gets more embarrassed as each member of their family leaves the boat, because she's going to have to ask for help, and asking for help means that she has to admit she _needs_ help.

Even now, even with the people she'd trust with her life, admitting that kind of vulnerability is hard to stomach.

But while she's still struggling with speaking up, John climbs out of the boat, then immediately turns around and crouches, holding his hands out for her. “Come on, Felicity, you're next.”

Her eyes are burning again, and damn, she _must_ be tired if she’s this emotional about everything. “Is there anything you don’t know?” she asks, looking up at John and trying not to smile.

“Preferably anything about your sex life,” he shoots back pointedly.

She snorts, but mostly because she’s caught on that John’s being dramatic about her earlier innuendo to distract her from the fact that he’s having to help her out of the boat. So yes, maybe she’s exhausted, but she’s also emotional because she happens to love the man to bits.

She’s definitely seeing a hug in John’s future.

Oliver steps up to her side. “I promise to catch you if he drops you.”

And while she knows he’s joking, she also knows that he’s really not. She catches his gaze and holds it, trying to fill the space between them with all the support and love he’d given her earlier.

“I know,” Felicity tells him. “I trust you.”

She watches her words wash over him, can actually _see_ something in his eyes relax, and the wide, grateful smile that lights up his face is absolutely worth the delay in getting to a hot shower and a real meal and a comfortable bed. It’s worth that and so much more.

So she takes one more second to lean up and give him a kiss on his chapped lips, and then she grabs hold of John’s patient hands and lets herself be lifted up.


End file.
